


Memorable Voyages

by CaveFelem



Category: Formula 1 RPF, Rush (2013)
Genre: Boats and Ships, Dirty Talk, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Memories, Multi, Partly Dialogue-Only, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Threesome - F/F/M, Travel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-09
Updated: 2014-02-09
Packaged: 2018-01-11 18:36:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1176495
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaveFelem/pseuds/CaveFelem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The location of a promotional event brings back pleasant memories for James. Niki thinks he's oversharing, but does he really mind?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorable Voyages

**Author's Note:**

> _"We set off at the crack of dawn next day with Air Lauda to Marienhamn [sic], an island between Finland and Sweden and a noted escape for Swedish teenagers, who avail themselves of the duty-free booze and lack of licensing laws on the night ferry which connects with the mainland. I had the good fortune to travel on this ferry in 1970 on my way to a race in Finland – a memorable voyage."  
>  (James Hunt's 1978 season diary)_
> 
> Disclaimer: The diary quote above is real, as are the races and the results mentioned. The drinking incident Niki mentions in the story allegedly happened too. Otherwise, this is a work of fiction and does not in any way represent or make claims about the real people appearing in it.
> 
> This can be read either as F1 RPF or as Rush fic as you prefer.
> 
> A whole lot of thanks to Czeri for beta and for talking me into posting this despite my doubts.

**1978**

"I've been here before, did you know that, Niki? Well, not right here exactly, but the ferry I was on made a stop here. Not that I saw anything. It was midnight, and anyway, I was... occupied."

"I'm sure you were."

"It was quite a fun trip. Eight years ago, almost exactly. Two pretty fun races, too. I was third."

"In both?"

"Er, no. Just the first one. The second, well, the thing is that the engine..."

"It blew up."

"How did you know?"

"You had that face."

"I have an engine blowing up face?"

"Yes. You do. I see it often."

"Mr Lauda, you are an ass." 

"I know."

" _Anyway_. As I was saying, it was quite a fun trip..."

 

**1970**

Of course the whole event was out of the way and a bit obscure. Still, the idea of racing overseas itself always held an irresistible glamour, even if he often ended up camping unglamorously on the back seat of his towing car. Besides, he knew as well as anyone how much he needed the experience, the visibility and any money he could possibly earn. Solid, practical reasons. The fun possibilities were secondary. Really.

The transport of his car, travelling under the care of its mechanic, had eaten up a sizable chunk of the money budgeted for the trip, so he was left to transport himself on a cheap flight from London to Stockholm, then on a ferry across the Baltic Sea. The ferry had looked like a sensible, thrifty choice on paper, especially as he'd booked himself in as a deck passenger without a cabin of his own, but actually that hadn't been the main reason for his choice. By then, he'd realised the ferry also meant plentiful alcohol and the possibility of getting familiar with some nice Nordic girls.

Because of these plans, he'd figured having no cabin was alright – even if he couldn't find a bed for the night, there were worse places to spend an overnight trip than at the bar counter – but found himself already starting to regret it at around seven thirty. 

The only encounter with the fairer sex so far had been with an English woman, pushing fifty, who was on an exotic tourist trip with her tight-lipped and uninterested husband and thought she'd seen James' face in the papers. She had insisted on treating him to the dinner buffet and had proceeded to flirt with him outrageously all through the meal, while the husband had regarded everything except his gravlax and potatoes with continuing apathy.

A free dinner was all well and good, even if the lady had kept forgetting he raced in Formula 3 and not motorbikes, but if James had wanted to hang out with people who could have been his parents' friends, he would have stayed home. He'd politely extricated himself from the couple's company as soon as he could and had made for the bar to seek some of that cheap booze.

Booze was certainly flowing, had been almost from the moment the ferry had left the harbour. Unfortunately, apart from the duty-free supermarket, it was priced just like on dry land, and the duty-free boasted large signs saying one was meant to enjoy the alcoholic purchases at home.

Compared to home, he found the bar prices rather steep. 

"And these folks are supposed to be hard drinkers," he grumbled at no one in particular. "How do they afford it?"

 

**1978**

"No one is a hard drinker compared to you."

"You wound me, Niki."

"It's true. I remember when you were sick over the bench and ordered another right away."

"I did? Sounds like a fun night. What did we do after?"

"If you don't remember, you don't deserve to be reminded."

"Fine. I remember enough things from the last time around here to keep me amused."

 

**1970**

He finished his second beer and decided to wander around instead. Up on the sun deck, he enjoyed passing the tiny, picturesque islands of the archipelago and feeling the wind in his hair for a while, but the same wind made it too uncomfortable to make the sun deck his main base. He returned inside and wandered aimlessly down the stairs to the lower decks.

It was there that he stumbled upon the real fun.

While elderly people, proper business travellers and families had their cabins up above the waterline, away from the noisy engines and conveniently close to the services, the young and the impecunious had theirs lower down, where there was little reason for staff to go when it wasn't time for cleaning. This meant clusters of people hanging out in the cramped corridors, cabin doors invitingly open here and there, duty-free bottles opened and sipped from without any pretense of restraint or elegance.

James fit the young and impecunious bracket and liked what he was seeing already. He liked it even more once he'd managed to join the company of two girls with a bottle of wine each. They were reasonably pretty, Lisbet with her cute and slightly naughty smile and Anna with just the sort of silky sand-blonde hair he liked. Their English had no frills and was a bit choppy, but not unpleasant.

It turned out there had been three of them sharing a four-bunk cabin, but the third member of the party had hit it off with some hot Norwegian bloke right away, and – they giggled as they divulged the information – wasn't likely to be seen before landfall next morning. 

That left them with not one but two vacant bunks, didn't it? And here was James without a place to rest his head, and wasn't this all very convenient? He was a decent guy, too, he'd give an Englishman's word he would not run off with their wallets. (They all laughed. If there had been something worth stealing in there, none of them would have been sitting on the floor on the low decks.) In any case, there were two of them and only one of him, so it was all very safe and, uh, proper.

Except that James had been on the road since very early morning and was eager to use the tiny, weak shower, and by the time he got out, the girls had settled on one of the bottom bunks to finish a bottle together and were now staring at his towel-clad form like cats at a plump canary.

Well. That wasn't an entirely unexpected development.

With a grin, James planted himself on the edge of the bunk. He'd had a craving for a cigarette, but decided not to try his luck after spotting the unmistakable plastic bump of a fire alarm in the bathroom ceiling. Now it seemed like he'd get to satisfy another craving instead.

 

**1978**

"I don't need to hear all the details."

"Who said I'd give you all the details? You'd just be envious."

"Hah."

"No, seriously. That ferry was like horny young men's seafaring paradise. Those three girls–"

"Three? You were talking about two."

"I was getting to that when someone said he didn't need to hear more."

"Fine. Go on. I see there's no way you are going to shut up."

"Aha! I think you're interested."

"I am not interested in your sex adventures. I – what the hell are you doing?"

"Mmm, thought so. Sure feels like interest."

"...fuck you, James."

"Funny you should say that..."

 

**1970**

Drunk on the wine and the excitement of adventure, it was not long until the three of them were a laughing, kissing tangle of limbs on the bunk. James had his hand under Lisbet's shirt, fiddling with the hooks of her bra – she had small, perky breasts that he was dying to see and feel – while Anna was busy unwrapping his towel.

He was quite sure heaven was something like that. Not one but two girls, curious fingers and mouths all over him, their nearness making him as giddy and horny as they were themselves.

He changed his mind once they had all managed to get rid of their clothes. _That_ was what heaven was all about: skin against skin against skin, things hard and things oh, so very soft, the whole night to explore them all.

It was Lisbet, finally, who took the game a step further, climbing on top of him and squirming against his thigh in a way that left nothing to the imagination. Yes, she wanted, and he wanted the same thing very much indeed, but was it possible to...? Whatever else he might have been, he wasn't totally irresponsible. Lisbet, however, waved his concern away and assured him things were taken care of. Anna, who had been lavishing kisses and nibbles on his neck, was remarkably quick to echo her friend.

She was also quick to present James with an idea that, whispered into his ear, made him swallow and shudder from delicious anticipation. 

And that was how he found himself under both girls, balls-deep in hot slippery Lisbet and half-hypnotised by the rocking of her hips, and the rest of his attention centred on Anna, both hands gripping her backside while he buried his face in her wet curls. It was cramped on the bunk, with not enough room for comfort, but he didn't care, because very soon Anna was coming with loud, shaky moans. He licked at her greedily for as long as she let him, and when she pulled back, he saw Lisbet's hands on Anna's breasts, fingertips plucking at the peaked nipples.

He couldn't help it; he lost it at that.

 

**1978**

"Those _are_ details."

"You like it. You like me telling you all these things while I'm touching you."

"I'm –"

"At a loss for words? For once? You must really like it a lot. Which one are you imagining yourself as, hmm? Do you fancy being the young stud with the two girls... or being _with_ him, having him inside you?"

"Shut up, damn you – I'm – I will –"

"Yes, that's the idea."

 

**1970**

He was a little bit unhappy with his performance, but Lisbet did not seem to mind. For some time, they cuddled in a too warm pile, all freshly sweaty and sticky, until Anna stretched her arms, yawned, rolled off the bunk with accidental, drunken almost-grace and slipped into the bathroom. James and Lisbet continued cuddling for a while longer, lazily stroking each other's skin, toying with a nipple here, drawing aimless spirals on a stomach there.

Anna returned, shower-fresh, flushed and sleepy-eyed, and flashed the two of them a smile before climbing on the other top bunk. It seemed only minutes before her breathing took on the slow rhythm of sleep.

Lisbet muttered something against James's chest. What was that? Oh, she wanted some of what he'd done to Anna? An answering jab of heat right down to his groin was enough to convince him. He rolled her over on her back, and she lay there with her eyes closed, hair and limbs spread across the messy sheets. She tasted of him more than herself, and it should probably have been gross, but somehow it was anything but. It was good. He got her to writhe and whine and bite the edge of the blanket, he felt like a world champion, and it was all good.

 

**1978**

"Ah, fuck! So good."

"Naturally."

"You don't know what modesty is, do you?"

"I know what it is. I just don't have it. What's the use? You know I know what makes you tick. No point pretending otherwise."

"Hrmph. Do you have to do that thing?"

"What?"

"Lick your hand. It's..."

"Yes? It's what?"

"Never mind. I need a shower."

"But I haven't told you about the third girl yet. See, the Norwegian bloke turned out to be a bit of a wanker after all – not literally, mind, I don't think they got that far – and I woke up at around midnight when she stumbled into my bunk in the dark... what? What did I do now?"

"No. Save it. Tell me later."

"Ooh. I like this. When? Soon?"

" _Later_."

"I'm going to be thinking about the _later_ while we do promotional activities."

"That's your problem."

"You are an ass. A huge, insufferable ass."

"I know."


End file.
